Until the End of the World
by Wallace
Summary: It's the end of the world. Nobody goes home.
1. 1

Title: Until the end of the world.  
Fandom: _Angel_.  
Characters: Connor.  
Summary: Bad things happen. Connor is patient.

Disclaimer: He's not mine. None of them are.

**Until the End of the World**  
  
The world started ending in New York. Nobody was expecting it.  
  
It took Connor nearly a month to get across America and find out what was going on.  
  
The demons had loved it. The sun had fallen from the sky, the stars had screamed their agony, the moon had bled, and the demons had come out to play. Very few humans survived the first few days. Once the massacre was more or less complete, the demons started killing one another. And why not? The world was ending.  
  
Connor survived, but then, he wasn't really human. He'd accepted that years ago, accepted that more than two thirds of his memories were artificial, and that's if you don't count their replacements, the absurdities and impossibilities and horrors that he knew to be the truth.  
  
So when the world ended, Connor fought to protect his family, until they were all dead, and then he fought to avenge them, until he was the only living thing in his town. And then he found a car and some fuel, and started driving.  
  
After a few miles, he found a motorcycle; the roads were backed up with wrecked cars and dead people, and until he ran out of gas and had to start walking, it proved the fastest transport around.  
  
He met his first Slayer on the fourth day. Somebody had nailed what was left of her to a church door, and carved what she had been into the flesh of her torso. Connor was travelling fast, and he'd never really got to know any Slayer, let alone this one, but even so he took the time to stop and slaughter everything that moved in that particular town. It proved awkward, at times; several of the demons even managed to touch him. Six years of living a normal life had left him rusty and out of shape.  
  
The world had gone to hell, he knew. But he'd grown up in hell, and been feared, and this place was nothing to Quor-Toth.  
  
He found his second, third, fourth and fifth Slayers a week later. They had been crucified along the interstate, signs hung around their necks. One of them was still alive, although she could no longer speak. Her eyes begged for death, and he gave it to her. The second human life that he had taken, and he killed nothing else in that place, but just drove on.  
  
The Slayers had been based in New York, he knew. His father - his natural father - had kept him informed of these things occasionally, little pieces of information, allowing him to live outside this world without isolating him from it. There were times when Connor hated Angel for not allowing him to escape, but now he had nothing else to go on.  
  
Angel was dead, he knew. The vampire would have come for Connor if he had survived, and so he must be dead.  
  
Connor walked through Virginia, and saw the fires of Washington DC. He didn't know what had happened there, but he was prepared to guess that there had been a lot of symbolism involved.  
  
He had left a lot of dead demons behind him, although he was no longer sure why. After all, he hadn't seen any humans in two weeks, living or dead; there was nothing left to fight for, nothing left to champion. Mostly, he killed for the pleasure of violence. He was Connor, he was the son of Angelus and of Holtz, he was the Destroyer, and if he could not find peace, he would find vengeance.  
  
In the wreckage of a diner, in New Jersey, thirty-seven days after the world began to end, Connor met Faith.


	2. 2

**Title:** Until the end of the world 2/5.  
**Fandom:** _Angel_.  
**Characters:** Connor, Faith.  
**Summary: **Connor is patient. Faith tries to keep going.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own either of them.

She was slumped in a booth, nursing a can of Coca-Cola, weapons stacked on the table in front of her. She was tired, bruised and bloodstained, dressed in ragged jeans, combat boots, and a US Army-issue flack jacket. Military equipment was fairly easy to find; there was quite a lot of it scattered around, these days.  
  
He learned, later, that she hadn't slept in four days, had been living on caffeine and adrenaline. Despite this, when he walked in she had a gun levelled at his head instantly.  
  
He had smelled her half a mile away, the scents of _human_ and _female_ and, above all, _Slayer_ cutting across the slaughterhouse stench that the city still retained. At first, she had been a mere curiosity, a hope. As he neared, though, the smell became more familiar, and he remembered the fierce, vital woman who had hunted down Angelus and then beaten him bloody. He bore no malice over this; there had been plenty of time to think on the past, as he travelled.  
  
There was neither recognition nor curiosity in her gaze, and he remembered Angel's spell.  
  
"You're late." She said, and lowered the weapon.  
  
Connor paused, and then walked past her to the fridge, deactivated and half empty but still full of cans of soda. He spotted a Dr Pepper, reached for it.  
  
"Sorry." He replied. "Traffic was murder."  
  
She made a sound that could have been a laugh and could have been a sob, and he did her the courtesy of not looking round. Popped the can, drank, paused, drank again.  
  
"Where did you come from?" She asked, after a moment.  
  
"West." He replied. He turned. She was still sitting there, Coke in one hand, gun in the other. Connor was fairly certain he wasn't bullet proof. She looked half dead, and he supposed he didn't look much better.  
  
Her right hand, gripping the gun, was steady as a rock.  
  
"I'm a friend of Angel." He told her, after a moment.  
  
He was expecting a lot more questions, but she just nodded, clearly forming her own conclusions.  
  
"Are you the last?" He asked, after a moment.  
  
"Probably." She replied. She suddenly lowered the gun. "Get me something to eat, would you?"  
  
Connor never got to New York. Faith told him there was nothing left to see, anyway.  
  
They found a boat, after a couple of days. Neither of them knew much about these things, but as Faith said, it was their best chance. They loaded as much food and fuel as they could find on board, started the motor running, and didn't look back.  
  
Connor didn't ask where they were going until they were two days and five hundred miles from America. They had just battled their way through a truly hellish storm; blood had rained down from the sky, the sea had seemed to boil, and twisted, demonic birds had flown at them in waves, trying desperately to tear the flesh from their bones.  
  
Survival had been routine, but afterwards, when things had returned to what passed for normal in this time, Connor had been surprised by the care with which Faith plotted their position, following the guidance of a book on navigation and swearing inventively as she worked, and then set their course anew.  
  
"Are we going somewhere?" He had asked.  
  
"Yeah." She replied. "Rome."


	3. 3

**Title:** Until the end of the world, 3/5.  
**Fandom:** _Angel_.  
**Characters:** Connor, Faith.  
**Summary:** It's getting worse. Faith doesn't break. Connor doesn't quit.

Their boat sinks off the coast of Portugal, in the middle of a battle with demonic dolphins.  
  
Connor drags Faith ashore, climbs a cliff in the face of a storm dragging her behind him on a rope. Once she's conscious, they start walking; it's a long way to Rome, and they've got no supplies, although that detail is easily rectified. Despite all the predictions of anti-capitalists and economists, the consumers actually ran out before the products.  
  
They don't see any living humans.  
  
By the time they find another boat, in a village near Barcelona, they've stopped talking. They ran out of things to say to one another somewhere near Salamanca, where a particularly powerful tribe of demons had made a display of their victims in a wide perimeter around the city. There hadn't been much left of the city itself, by that time, but what there was, they burned to the ground.  
  
Connor had learned a little about Salamanca in school; one of his Professors had studied there, and used to get misty-eyed with very little prompting. With everything he's heard about the beauty of the place, he should probably have felt guilty about destroying it. He doesn't feel anything.  
  
They don't leave any survivors behind in Salamanca, but then, they haven't left any survivors behind anywhere.  
  
--  
  
Connor is a survivor. He knows this absolutely; he grew up in Quor-Toth, his parents were demons, he was created to change the world. Whatever Faith is, whatever she has in her past, he knows that she can never equal this. Nothing on Earth can equal Quor-Toth, not even now, with the sun gone from the sky and the rivers running foul with corpses; Faith's childhood, compared to his own, was nothing. This is why he cannot understand why she is so strong, how she survived when all the other Slayers died.  
  
But he learns a little more about her in Rome, watching her face when they find the woman's head. It's been placed on a spike on the steps of St Peter's. There's a demon king of some sort holding court in front of it, legions of minions scattered around, but when Faith, her face expressionless, walks out into the square to look at the head, none of them move to stop her.  
  
Connor is standing right next to her when she reaches the spike, and its burden. Even with his hypersensitive hearing he barely hears the single syllable that slips from her lips.  
  
"B."  
  
Then Faith turns around, her face still blank, and kills everything in sight.  
  
Once she's done, she announces that they are going to Africa.  
  
Once again, Connor doesn't bother to ask why.


	4. 4

**Title:** Until the end of the world, 4/5..  
**Fandom:** _Angel_.  
**Characters:** Connor, Faith.  
**Summary:** The end is nigh. Faith can see it coming. Connor's just along for the ride.  
  
The day they arrive in Africa is also the day they fuck.  
  
Connor drags their boat up the beach, looking for some way to secure it until they come back. Faith has just grabbed her pack and walked away, and he has to run to catch up.  
  
There's a road at the top of the beach, and a couple of houses, and some demons, although they're mostly dead by the time Connor gets there. Then Faith gestures for him to follow her into one of the houses, where he watches as she kicks a space clear on the living room floor and then starts to pull off her clothes.  
  
It's like nothing he's ever experienced before in his life. Once again, Connor watches Faith's face, and once again he finds himself beginning to understand why she's alive when everyone else is dead.  
  
Afterwards Faith gets up, leaving Connor bruised and winded on the floor, and discovers that there's still running water, at least here. It's cold, but they both shower, separately, and then dress again, wrapping themselves in weapons and armour.  
  
Watching Faith, Connor thinks he sees elements of ritual in the way she places her knives and holsters her guns. He has no such formality in his approach; survival allows no delays, and anything you cannot abandon instantly is a weakness.  
  
She hasn't spoken since Rome, until now.  
  
"Last chance to back out."  
  
He's surprised. It hadn't occurred to him that there was even the possibility.  
  
She shrugs, and walks out, and he follows her.  
  
--  
  
"Where are we going?" He asks, an hour later.  
  
"The desert."  
  
"The desert? Do you know what you're looking for there?"  
  
She doesn't answer. Wrong question, he realises.  
  
"Do you know what you're going to find?"  
  
"Death." She says. "It's our gift. It's all we've got left."  
  
And he nods, and they walk on.  
  
--  
  
That night, they have their first real conversation.  
  
"What did you want?" She asks him. They've made a fire in an empty military base; there's a jeep parked outside that they've loaded with fuel, and they've killed every demon they could find and found a room with no decomposing human corpses in it, and now she's sitting beside him, looking into the fire.  
  
It occurs to Connor that she's probably not much older than he is.  
  
"I was going to be a doctor." He replies, after a moment. "You?"  
  
"Nothing but this." There's a pause, and a lot she doesn't say. "I was never much good at anything else."  
  
It's a cue, but he's not sure what he's meant to say to that.  
  
"My name's Faith." She says after another pause.  
  
"I know." He says. "I'm Connor."  
  
She glances at him, and there's actual curiosity in her eyes.  
  
"There was a spell." He explains. "Everyone lost their memories. Wesley and I got them back eventually, nobody else remembered I existed."  
  
She thinks about this for a long moment.  
  
"So who are you really, Connor?"  
  
"Angel's son."  
  
"You're shitting me." She sounds amused. This is good; he hasn't seen any emotions from her since St Peter's.  
  
"It's the truth."  
  
"And we used to hang out?"  
  
"You beat me unconscious once."  
  
He's rather surprised that she doesn't ask why.  
  
Faith doesn't ask many questions.  
  
--  
  
The next day, they drive into the desert.


	5. 5

Title: Until the end of the world, 5/5.  
Fandom: _Angel_.  
Characters: Connor, Faith.  
Summary: Everything that has a beginning, has an ending. This includes the Slayer.  
  
They drive for six days, and then abandon the jeep and start walking.  
  
There aren't that many demons in the desert. It's almost safe, and Connor finds himself thinking that if humans have survived anywhere, it'll be places like this, where even with the sun gone the environment is harsh in the extreme. The weather doesn't help; a stinging wind that cuts like knives of ice and carries with it choking clouds of sand.  
  
Faith's not looking for people, though.  
  
--  
  
It's hard to tell times of day since the end started, but he's fairly certain it's early afternoon when he sees the shadow.  
  
"There's something following us." He says.  
  
"I know." She replies.  
  
"What…"  
  
"It's not a demon." She keeps walking.  
  
--  
  
After a while, day and night blur. They sometimes stop and rest, and sometimes eat and drink from their rapidly lightening packs, and mostly they walk. And, every so often, Connor catches glimpses of the creature that shadows them.  
  
Then suddenly, abruptly, the wind dies, and Connor stops. He has no idea how long they've been walking, but he doesn't feel tired.  
  
After a few paces, Faith also stops.  
  
Connor looks round. The desert stretches around them to the horizon. There are no longer dunes, or rocks, but only the flat, smooth sand, stretching to meet the dark skies of the horizon.  
  
No. Not sand. Dust. He goes down on one knee and runs his hand through the fine grey ash that is the whole of the landscape, lifts a handful and lets it slip through his fingers. It has a familiar quality, and that's no surprise; he's lost count of the number of times this same dust has burst into the air around his thrusting stake.  
  
Faith hasn't asked him why he's stopped.  
  
"Where are we?" He asks.  
  
"The desert." She replies, and he almost yells at her before he realises that she's deadly serious. Faith is facing him, and then she turns to her left, and he turns to follow her, and they're suddenly underground, walking down a tunnel.  
  
Looking back, he sees a faint circle of dim light behind them.  
  
"Whoa." Faith says, and the sound is so incongruous it almost makes him flinch. "Now, that I didn't expect." She's smiling, suddenly.  
  
He looks past her, to the end of the tunnel, and sees the flicker of firelight, shadows moving past it.  
  
He feels the age of this place, pressing in all around him.  
  
Faith starts forward, and he catches her arm. She turns to him, face patient.  
  
"Do you know what's down there?"  
  
"Only one way to find out." She smiles then, and suddenly his life hurts.  
  
He pauses. It's something he learned, long ago, from one of his fathers. The memories blur, and he can no longer remember which one, but he remembers the quiet voice.  
  
"There's always more than one way of doing things." He points out.  
  
"Do you know a better way?"  
  
He can't meet her gaze.  
  
And then there's a scrabbling sound, and something appears from the chamber ahead of them. Dark skin and tangled hair, wrapped in pale grey cloth. Face painted in streaks of white. Body muscle and bone, stripped down to efficiency, and the creature stares at them out of dark, dead eyes.  
  
Faith's faster than him, and stronger than him, and she catches his hand an inch from his knife.  
  
"What is it?" He asks, although he doesn't expect her to have an answer.  
  
"The first." She answers quietly. "I have to go." She steps away from him, towards the creature.  
  
"The first what?" He demands urgently, following her towards the firelight.  
  
"I'm the last, she's the first." She replies, in the same calm tones. "Stay here."  
  
He doesn't bother to answer that, just presses forwards. The creature moves to bar his path, and Faith turns.  
  
"Thank you for bringing me here." She tells him, and he can't look away.  
  
"What next?" He asks, desperate.  
  
"Do what you've always done." She replies, and it seems to him that it's no longer Faith talking, no longer Faith who stands opposite to him in the rocky tunnel. The creature is gone from between them, but for a moment he thinks he sees it standing where she was. And then it's gone, but there are a million other girls standing there, all at once. And in a way all of them are Faith.  
  
"There was a compact, once upon a time." She replies, and she speaks in Faith's voice, but it's as if he's suddenly noticing that Faith's voice is made up of a million others. "From first to last, it must be ended."  
  
She turns away once more, and walks to the firelight, a million girls in a single body.  
  
"And me?" He doesn't say it out loud, barely even breathes the words, but she somehow hears them.  
  
"Survive, Connor." She tells him. "Survive." Her hand reaches behind her back, sliding her knife from its sheath. And then she steps into the cave.


End file.
